Across the Universe
by Defying Karma
Summary: Because everybody believes in Yesterday.


**Hi, I'm Def. This isn't my first account or fic, but I **_**am**_** going to post all my crazier-then-normal stuff here. I have something else Beatles-Percy Jackson related coming out soon; I just want to finish writing it first. **

**Anyway, I **_**am **_**currently obsessed with the Beatles. Yes, they are amazing. No, you may not like them, but a lot of people do. So. I'm trying something new; A oneshot inspired by any Beatles song that strikes me. :) **

**Thanks. This is going to be my spare-time thing, so hush up if you don't like it. **

**R&R?**

**Chapter One: P.S. I love you**

**(This one really is for more of the concept of the title more so then the meaning of the song)**

_Percy,_

_I get that you're a half-blood. I get you've saved the world and have Annabeth and you are most definitely waaaaay out of my league. I get that, really, I do. You've been to hell and back to get where you are now, and that's great. You finally have accomplished something in your life besides getting kicked out of six boarding schools in six years. Congratulations. Maybe we should throw a party. _

_ You're probably wondering why the heck I'm writing you a letter. Yes, I do have a computer. I have an email. I have a Facebook. Trust me, that's not the problem. And yes, I use them. My inbox is pretty chalk full of emails from camp friends that I really should get around to answering. And it's not the fact I'm afraid of a monster hacking it and tracing it back. No, I can handle myself, thank you very much. _

_ Actually, _I _don't even know why I'm writing this. Maybe, somewhere deep, deep, down, I know you can't _keep _an email. Yeah, you can print it out and thumbtack it up on that corkboard above your bed, (Haha, mental image of Flat Stanley there. Hahaha, wow. I need to get a life.), but it's still not real. It's not a part of someone, like a letter is. A letter contains words penned in the handwriting of someone that nobody __else has. When I'm gone- so is my handwriting, which is a scary thought. Better start signing stuff now, huh? _

_I realize this letter has no plot. I also realize this probably will never get to you, because underneath the bravado I wear on the outside I'm a chicken. I can't do the brave things like you, Percy. I'm just a stupid mortal who can barely handle herself in the mortal world. Even though I'm the freaking oracle of Delphi, I can't kill a stupid monster myself. Apollo always sends some 'help'. Help, of course, being himself. Can't have the precious oracle dying now can he? Even though it's practically written in my piece of yarn the Fates have all planned out for me that I'm going to die in some painful, nasty way. _

_ "But you totally flew that helicopter by yourself! That's pretty brave," You'd probably say. Well, there's a couple things wrong with that sentence. One; the helicopter. I'm pretty sure 99.9% of the population don't even_ have_ helicopters. Two: I don't even know if that was me. It sure didn't _feel _like me, I can tell you that. Three; that's one of the reasons why I'm writing this. You're the perfect guy, Percy. Good lucks, a really great guy, just perfect all around. Screw those tiny imperfections. So you have a loyalty thing for people you're close to. Big whoop. Fantastic. _

_ Well, I'm going to go mail this, before I start getting _really _mushy. And yes, you are thick if you can't figure out all this. Get Annabeth. Or-no. Don't. She won't want you reading this; she hates me. Hates me more than a sixteen-year-old hates getting out of bed, which is saying something. _

_ I'm sighing now, Percy. Just keep that in mind when- if- you ever get this. _

_Bye,_

_Rachel Elizabeth Dare._

_(Just in case): _

_P.S: I love you._

Rachel Elizabeth Dare sighed as she sat up and stretched her arms above her head. The carefully penned letter was lying on her glass desk with the lamp shining painfully bright on it. It was in English, after carefully deciding whether to write it in Greek. She figured it was hard enough to tell him in her native language.

"Rachel! Come eat dinner!" The nanny, Cynthia, called from downstairs. Her voice was clear as it bounded up the four floors to her loft. "I made your favorite, tuna!"

_I hate tuna, _Rachel thought as she gave a final glance at the letter before slipping it into it's envelope, sealing it, and stuffing it into her pocket. She threw on her jacket and bolted downstairs. "I'll be back in a minute! Gotta mail something!"

"But it'll get cold-" Cynthia protested.

But Rachel was already gone, racing down the street to the local post office. She pushed the door opened, which rang a happy-sounding bell. The old man behind the counter looked up at her.

"Hello," he greeted warmly. "May I help you?"

Slowly, Rachel took the envelope out of her pocket. She hadn't changed out of her Clarion Ladies uniform since she had come home that afternoon for winter holidays; she had just sat down on her desk and began writing. By the time everything was perfect; it was already six o' clock and time for dinner. "Yes. How much would it be to mail this to New York, New York?"

The man smiled. "Well, lets see..."

While the man was calculating the money, Rachel looked around. The bell rang, signiling someone entering, but she payed no attention. She gazed outside at the lines of traffic. When she let her eyes blur a little the white lights of the people coming toward the building and the red lights of the people going away blurred together, making a pretty mirage.

"Rachel?" An all-too-familiar voice asked. She blinked and whipped around, her eyes wide.

_No way. No way. No. Freaking. Way. _She started to panic. "Oh- hi Percy! How's it going?"

Percy Jackson (_OF ALL FREAKING PEOPLE) _nodded. "Good. You?"

"Fine. And Annabeth?"

He smiled. "It's going great."

_I didn't ask how you were doing together, _Rachel thought, but on the inside she smiled. "Cool."

10457

"And you'd be mailing to the zip code of 10457?"

Rachel hesitated, then nodded toward the man. "Yes."

"And you're from around here?"

"Yes."

"That'll be 2.24. May I have the letter and the money?"

She dug around in her pocket and placed the money on the counter.

"And the letter?"

She hesitated. The man had his hand out, waiting. She took out the letter. Her hand hovered over the man's hand.

"Ma'am?"

She snatched her hand back and tore the letter into a thousand pieces. Percy gave her a confused look, but she just shrugged and smiled.

"He wouldn't understand it, anyway," She said to him, and bolted out of the shop.

_I am such a wuss, _The majority of her brain shouted, while a miniscule part whispered, _Next time. _


End file.
